Details

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Up the Bloomfield Track. Noah's Beach to Cooktown.

There
are lies, damned lies and advice about road conditions offered by
locals. It may be dry season, and the creeks may be low, but I'm
about to discover that the first 35km of road from Cape Tribulation
to Cooktown (known as the Bloomfield Track) are not for the faint
hearted.

The
gravel road starts just out of Cape Tribulation village and there are
warning signs that the road is for 4WD vehicles only. A few km into
the drive I encounter the 1st creek crossing - Emmagen Creek. Crystal
clear water and a rocky bottom – looks OK. ¾ of the way across
(it's about knee deep), I'm distracted by the view upstream and
deviate from the main route and suddenly find myself on loose river
boulders rather than compacted stones. Result – the back wheel
drops into a hole and the bike is stuck fast. Hung up on some large
boulders with the back wheel spinning uselessly!

Fortunately
the water is not fast flowing and the bike is securely lodged
allowing me to dismount and unload all my gear and carry it to the
far bank.

While
I'm scratching my head wondering how I'm going to get out of this, a
car turns up. Just a plain old sedan (an old front wheel drive SAAB).
The driver (Richard) turns out to be an north American, who
(although he has lived in the Cairns area for a couple of years) has
decided to drive up the Bloomfield track for the 1st time in a
borrowed car.

Long
story short – while I sit on the bike to stop it from falling over,
he removes the boulders that are keeping me stuck and we manage to
get the bike out and up the slippery bank on the other side. My
feelings are mixed at this stage. Relief that the bike is now safely
across, mixed with trepidation about what lies ahead! Richard pushes
on ahead while I repack the bike. “If he can make it in a front
wheel drive sedan, then I can make it!” I tell myself. Onwards!

The
next hour is the hardest riding I've ever done. I oscillate between
feeling total terror and absolute exhilaration, my blood awash with
adrenaline.

The
track varies between wet creek crossings, steep (I mean VERY steep)
ups and downs, dry dusty boulder strewn creek crossings and
corrugated gravel. The very worst of the steep hills have concrete
paving which helps. Total concentration required at all times, with
little opportunity to enjoy the passing scenery. Most
of the time I'm standing upon the pegs, which makes control of the
bike a lot easier.

I
finally emerge from the 'track' at a small aboriginal community
called Wajul Wajul where there is a brief section of sealed road,
before it returns to gravel for the final kilometres back to the main
Cooktown road.

Shortly
before rejoining the main road, you pass through Rossville where the
(apparently) world famous “The Lions Den Hotel” is located.
(http://www.lionsdenhotel.com.au/).
Stop for lunch and a cold drink. Find Richard – my American
friend – having coffee and we exchange horror stories about the
track. Then on to Cooktown – Richard says we'd probably run into
one another again, as Cooktown only has one street (not true) and
bugger all people.

In
Cooktown I cruise up and down the main street, find a café and order
coffee and cake. No sooner have I sat down on the veranda overlooking
the street and the river mouth, than along comes Richard. I buy him
another coffee as some compensation for his roadside assistance.

I
find a camp site at the local caravan park, and as I'm pitching my
tent, two motorbikes turn up. There has been a motorcycle rally up on
Cape York, and these were a couple of Victorians making their way back
to Cairns. They and their bikes are covered in the notorious red
bull dust that plagues the roads all over Cape York.

Bruce
and Tony tell me that they had their dirt bikes (Suzuki DR 650's)
shipped up to Cairns on a trailer, then by barge up to the Torres
Straits where they disembarked for the ride down to the Rally at
Bramwell Station on the Old Telegraph Line Peninsular Road.
Apparently over 200 bikes from all over Australia turned up.

When
I tell them I came up the Bloomfield Track they shake their heads
indicating they think I'm crazy to attempt it on such a large
heavy bike, especially without knobbly tyres.

I
head back up the road to the local supermarket for supplies and beer,
while they set up their tents and have a shower to remove some of the
red dust.

We
spend an pleasant evening together. They plan a rest day in Cooktown
before doing the Bloomfield Track as a short cut to back to Cairns.
Good luck guys!

I'm
heading back down to the Atherton Tablelands – hoping to hear from
Marco that his bike has been cured of it's electrical problems.